


stakeout

by allthelostsouls



Category: Marvel, Marvel Cinematic Universe
Genre: Angst and Feels, Bucky Barnes Feels, Bucky Barnes Needs a Hug, F/M, Fluff and Angst, Light Angst, Mild Smut, Steve being an oldtimer, a little bit of mafia abuse sort of thing??, all the feels, not really smut?
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-06-29
Updated: 2019-06-29
Packaged: 2020-05-30 21:03:49
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 7,073
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19411366
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/allthelostsouls/pseuds/allthelostsouls
Summary: the super soldiers need a window to look out from, and the apartment they pick and its owner turn out to be perfect in many ways. also, dogs.





	stakeout

“Holy shit.”

“Hi,” the man at the door smiles. “I’m Steve, this is Bucky.”

“Holy shit,” she says again. “Steve as in Captain America Steve?”

“That’s right. And you probably know him as the Winter Soldier.”

“Holy shit, you’re gorgeous,” she mutters and once her ears stop ringing and some sense comes back to her, she car hear her dog growling. “I’m sorry, this is Clifford. He’s a little bit of a mama’s boy,” she pats the labrador retriever’s head and watches him carefully as he smells the strangers. His tails wiggles as he steps back inside. “Well, you guys have been cleared by my security detail so please do come in. The tiny fluff at your feet is Daisy Mae,” she points at the little pug mix looking dog wagging her tail at them, her two front paws on top of Bucky’s left foot. As Bucky picks Daisy up to pet her head, she whispers, “She’s the dangerous one.”

She opens her door wider and the two super soldiers walk inside. She seems to be everywhere as she picks up pieces of clothing form the couch and empty glasses and a couple of food containers form the counter. Still, the apartment looks fairly well taken care of and clean, and there might be a hint of lavender as if from a candle burning somewhere.

“Sorry,” she mumbles, still moving stuff around. “Wasn’t really expecting company.”

“It’s quite alright,” Steve smiles. “It’s a great place you got here. And we are very sorry to barge in like this on you.”

There’s a silence then.

“Am I in trouble?”

“God, no,” Steve answers immediately. “But we do need your help.”

“My-My help? How could I be helpful to you?”

“You’re living right across the street to what we think is a safe house for some very dangerous people.”

“Lucky me.”

“Have you seen anybody suspicious or maybe someone new around the area?”

She only has to think about it for a second, “The brothers Karamazov!”

“The what now?”

“These two really hunky guys I’ve never seen before. They’ve been around for about a week or so, they seem really sketchy. My security detail doesn’t trust them.”

Bucky chuckles at the comment and if she wasn’t still shaking by the shock, her heart might even swell.

“Right,” Steve continues as if he had any idea what she’s talking about. “So we could really use your window. And your confidentiality.”

“Of course,” she replies right away. She smiles sweetly at Bucky who is still playing with the dog in his arms. Her tiny paws trying to wrap around his hand. Her heart stutters when he looks up at her. So, just because she has to say something, she blurs our the first thing it comes to mind, “Would you guys like some coffee or tea?”

And then she’s off to the kitchen to gather her thoughts.

✭

Of course once she’s more calmed, she sits down in her living room with them so they can explain better what was actually happening. The room seemed so small and cramped with them there, the mugs almost looking like toys in their hands.

They explain to her that she will be safe. That they’re just looking out of her window in the most careful way possible and that there’s no way the bad guys will know they’re there, since they’re trained professionals and have done this for decades. They tell her that they won’t be around much, only a couple of agents who help them out with these kind of _routine but still incredibly important work_.

Once Steve has told her everything he thinks she needs to know, and she has signed a pretty simple and straight forward contract of confidentiality, he asks what can they do for her to make her feel more comfortable. All she asks is to limit the amount of new people coming in and out, for the sake of her dogs. The less amount of strangers in their house, the less stressed they’ll feel. Simple as that.

“Done deal,” Steve smiles.

✭

She’s _not_ snooping.

She’s just preparing breakfast for the dogs and herself. It’s her day off work and she sees it as an opportunity to get her place and herself cleaned up. It’s got nothing to do with the fact that two of the most beautiful soldiers in the world are hanging out in her living room for the fifth day in a row.

Again, she’s not snooping.

But she’s only a few feet away from them so it’s hard not to overhear their conversation. Something about putting cameras and microphones inside the apartment so they can monitor from here, without really having to be sitting down by the window, with binoculars in hand.

“I’ve done this a million times, Steve.”

“I know,” he refutes, almost annoyed. “But we have to make sure they stay outside long enough to swipe the place properly.”

She takes a step closer to them quietly and hands them a toast with strawberry jelly to each one of them. She looks at what they’re looking at, and an idea pops in her head.

“I can help.”

“No,” Bucky grunts, and it’s the first thing he’s said directly towards her. She opens her mouth to ask why, but he puts his right hand up, stopping her words. “I can practically regrow my arm. Any bone I break can heal within hours, maybe even minutes. But if you get hurt, that I can't undo.”

He turns his back to her as if saying conversation over. Steve apologizes but sides with Bucky either way. “We’re not here to put you at risk.”

“But they’ve seen me before, they know I live here. They won’t think much of it.”

“No,” Bucky grunts again.

She rolls her eyes and steps away to feed the dogs. She still watches the super soldiers interact the entire time. They’re like an old married couple, both too stubborn to admit the other one might be right.

She chuckles and they’re still bickering, “Earth’s mighty heroes, huh?”

The small comment catches their attention and even though they don’t move from where they are, they stop talking and focus on her. She takes her sweatshirt off, the smooth skin of her arms showing thanks to her thank top, and both of them look away, shy. She lets her hair down and applies a very light shade of lipstick that makes her lips pop in the most natural way possible.

“My flirting is a little rusty and I’m not much to look that,” she says, putting the leash on the dogs, both of them pushing each other to stand in front of the door. “But I think I can manage to keep their eyes on me or my car for about fifteen minutes. You boys better make this worth it.”

One last look in the living room mirror and a short smile to the super soldiers and she’s walking out the door. She runs down the stairs and on to the parking lot as fast as she can, hoping neither one of them stops her. She’s playing with her car keys in her right hand and she gifts a tiny look up to the window as she pushes her hair off her shoulder, smirking at the soldiers.

“Hi,” she says with an awkward smile approaching the two buff dudes. She asks the dogs to be quiet and they sit still, but Clifford’s still alert and ready to attack if needed. “I’m having some car trouble, I think my battery is dead. Would you guys mind? I have some jumping cables on the trunk.”

The two guys look at each other as if deciding what to do, the same way the two super soldiers look at each other clearly impressed (Bucky might be a little pissed off, too) before they’re out the door and sneaking into the next building. She gives them a pleading smile and the bigger man nods the other guy off, giving him his car keys, and steps on his cigarette and he moves towards her.

“Thank you,” she squeals. She unlocks the car door, letting the dogs in, and makes sure she makes a spectacle of pulling the trunk release button to open it as well as the hood of the car. She looks over her shoulder and asks, “Would you mind grabbing the jumping cables for me?”

The guy nods once and moves towards the trunk. As fast as she can without looking suspicious, she locks the hood open and pulls the negative connector off the car battery. She takes a big step back and walks around to the side as if she had been waiting for the guy to find the cables all along. A car comes around the corner and parks right in front her, boxing her in. She swallows nervously as the man steps outside, but tries her best to shake it off.

She needs to pull this simple ruse off so the super soldiers can pull off their own.

It takes them about five minutes to connect the battery again. They do jump start her car, leaving the cables untouched so the battery would charge for about ten to fifteen minutes. She hopes that had given Steve and Bucky enough time to do what they needed to do. To not look suspicious, she thanks them and drives off. She takes the dogs to the park about five minutes out from their building complex and lets them play in the grass.

She’s almost scared to step into her apartment once she finally makes it back. She takes a deep breath and gives a nod to her dogs, and she’s not sure if she’s reassuring them or herself.

“Thank you,” Steve is the first one to speak after a whole minute of silence. She’s been standing by the doorway, the dog leashes still on her hand as he and Bucky stand next to each other by the couch. The dogs run towards them to smell their feet as a greeting, and then they’re off to their water bowls. “It was very brave what you did.”

“I’m sorry I overstepped,” she cuts him off then. “You asked me to stay out of it and I didn't, and I’m sorry. I hope I didn’t ruin anything for you guys.”

“On the contrary, we got the cameras set up blissfully thanks to you. We shouldn’t have underestimated you. Thank you again.”

“Please don’t do anything like that again,” Bucky adds, and she wonders if he doesn’t realize how rude he sounds most of the time. Maybe he's still pissed off. His jaw is tense and he’s debating himself on something. He finally mumbles, “Thanks.”

✭

Two days after the cameras were set up, a new set of agents showed up at the apartment. Steve only stopped by twice in the whole two weeks, and the rotating agents went down from three to two, to eventually just one. Bucky came more frequently than Steve, but he didn’t seem to be interested in work at all. After apologizing properly again, he’d try to make conversation. Or at least, he’d try to seem more approachable by adding a _how are you?_ to his greeting and bringing treats to the dogs, who seemed just as happy to see him. He’d sit in the coach petting Daisy Mae who’d crawl on his lap before he even sat properly, and even sometimes Clifford would lay down next to him, too, pushing his snout on his palm, forcing Bucky to notice him.

He seemed comfortable. The dogs liked his company and secretly, so did she. So what was really the harm on him being there?

✭

“Sergeant Barnes,” she smiles brightly and Bucky’s hands actually _shake_. “I wasn’t expecting you to stop by.”

“I just—I wanted to check on you?” He clears his throat and tries his best to sound more confident as he continues, “I wanted to make sure we weren’t overstepping. It should be over soon.”

“We’re doing okay,” she replies, a smile still playing on her lips. _Shit_ , Bucky thinks, _she knows_. “You guys can take all the time you need.”

Bucky nods and his mind goes blank. In all honesty, he didn’t have a reason to be there other than he wanted to see her. For him that was reason enough. The way she smiles at him not really expecting anything makes him think she knows that too. He thinks then he probably looks like a damn creep just staring at her face with such intensity, but it almost feels like this might be his last chance to see her. To make sure he keeps her face in his memory for as long as he possibly can once the mission is over and he doesn’t have any excuses to come around.

He doesn’t know how long they’ve been standing there, but it doesn’t matter one bit when she takes a step outside the apartment and asks, “Would you like to go somewhere with me? I think you’ll really like it.”

“Okay.”

“Great,” her smiles grows again, and Bucky’s heart stutters.

✭

“Hey, Pauline.”

“Hey, honey,” the woman at the front desk smiles up to her. “Dennis has been asking for you.”

“Can’t wait to see him, I’ll give him a big smooch in a minute,” she replies, signing in the sheet on top of the desk. He hands Bucky the pen and Pauline gives her a different kind of smile. “This is Bucky,” she says then, placing her hand on his arm. “He’s gonna help me out today with the feeding if you don’t mind.”

“Nice to meet you, darling,” Pauline nods once at him, her smile never shaking. “Thank you for coming today.”

Bucky nods back at Pauline and soon they’re both out the door. He didn’t realize how hot the day was until he walked out of the building to the dog area.

“I hope you don’t mind putting those big muscles to work,” she says over her shoulder.

They turn right in a small alleyway that gave access to the back of the dog cages. She walks in between them smiling and waving at the dogs, the animals barking, and jumping inside the cages in excitement. Bucky follows right behind and he doesn’t hide his smile. She instructs him to get the giant bag of food and shows him how to enter their cages and give them their food. So Bucky does. Two dogs in, he’s taken his gloves and pulled the sleeves of his hoodie up to his elbows, the metal arm becomes the one thing the dogs are interested in the most about him—smelling it, licking it. He takes his time with each dog to get them to feel comfortable and pets their heads before he puts the scoop of food in their bowls. He exits the cage as they eat and moves on to the next.

“You’re doing great,” she assures him after all the animals in that area are fed. “Rona has already taken care of the rest of the dogs so it’s playtime. Next to their names they have a little dot. If the dots are the same color, they get along great, so we can take them to playtime together.”

“Okay,” Bucky nods, his eyes roaming the little plastic sheets outside each cage. “Which color first?”

“Green,” she says after double checking a clipboard in the far wall. “Enter the cage the same way and put a leash on them when you’re comfortable. We can each take a dog at a time.”

Bucky nods, following instructions. In less than five minutes a handful of dogs are running around and sniffing each other in the closed space, the size of a third of a soccer field.

A big black pit bull comes in full force towards them, wagging his tail swiftly. “Hey, Dennis,” she greets the dog with a big kiss on his head. “Heard you been asking about me, papa. You doing good? How’s your stomach?” Right on cue the dog lays down and puts his paws up to show his belly, his tail still moving. She laugh a little and rubs his belly eagerly. “I know, I’ll take you home soon, I promise. I missed you, too,” she mumbles then, the dog licking any part of her arm he can reach. He stands up once she stops rubbing him and after another kiss, she sends him off to play with the other dogs.

Bucky wants to ask. He wants to ask and talk and listen and hold her hand and just know everything. He wants to have all his questions answered and then ask some more. He wants to know about her childhood and what kind of music she likes to listen to and what books she reads and if she likes to talk to her mom or dad better and if she went to college and what did she study. He thinks maybe he’d like to tell her that once he thought that he could be a teacher, or that he could get to the highest rank in the army. That he never understood Garcia Márquez and that he found Hemingway better than Fitzgerald.

“Having fun so far?” She asks, stopping his train of thought.

“A blast.”

And it’s true. He’s having a great time. He can’t really remember the last time he was this relaxed and, he even dares to think, content.

“I’m glad.”

Bucky smiles at her and looks at the dogs again. Maybe he should come back here more often and just watch them play. Enjoy their company and their love. They didn’t know his past. They didn’t know about what happened to his arm or about the nightmares he has at night. They didn’t know his name nor did they care. They just knew—just felt he was kind to them. Maybe the lone wolf might’ve finally found a pack.

“I’d like to come back some time.”

She squealed in excitement, and even jumps on her spot twice. “Okay. We can register you as an official volunteer. I can show you anything you need to know, and if there’s anything I miss, there’s always staff around to help you out or tell you want they need or what you can do for the dogs. And you can come back whenever you want, be here for as long as you’d like.”

Bucky nods again, thanking her. And it’s the most sincere gesture in the whole damn world. She feels her chest tighten and the want to hug him is so overwhelming, her whole body feels hot.

And she wants to know things, too. She wants to know if he remembers anything about the forties. Maybe ask all these unnecessary and invasive questions about him as a teenager. She's got this feeling that he was the best kind of trouble. Bucky looks back at her and she doesn't look away or feels embarrassed by the fact that she just got caught staring. Instead, she smiles at him, reassuring him that he was safe, that she was a friend. And waits. For him to talk or do something—anything. But nothing happens.

She ventures then, “You don’t talk much, huh? That’s okay; I talk enough for two people.”

✭

"Thank you for coming today."

"Thank _you_ for bringing me with you."

"Any time, sergeant."

Bucky buries his hands in the front pockets of his jeans and this is the first time in a very long time he feels comfortable with someone that isn’t Steve. He smile warmly at her and she smiles back, and this is it, guys. This is it.

“Would you like some tea? Maybe we can walk my other dogs together.”

Bucky can’t think of anything else he’d rather be doing right now. So he nods, still smiling and follows right behind as they step into the apartment. The agent sitting by the window looks back at him and after a tight nod, he's back to work. Spy work like that suddenly seems so damn boring.

✭

Another three weeks fly by.

And in those three weeks, Bucky would stop by to make sure she was okay almost everyday. When he didn’t, he’d bring flowers and some dog treats as an apology. He opened up more—he’d talk about his everyday life, the missions they’d send him on as if explaining why he hadn’t stopped by, and some times when the world would grow dark and quiet, he’d tell her about his life before "the Winter Soldier". He’d talk about his best friend (the once scrawny, skinny Steve) and how he would’ve killed just about anyone for him; how food used to taste better and about how bars would always reek of smoke. And sometimes, on the darkest nights, he’d talk about his mom.

It just became a sort of routine.

He’d keep her updated on the progress of their current mission as well since it was the reason why she’d always have an agent sitting by her window. He tried not to show any emotions when he told her that they’ve gathered enough information to make a move and that if everything went well, it’d all be back to normal in two weeks time.

Something about that didn’t make him happy.

✭

The night’s cold and she absolutely loves it.

She thinks the dogs love it too since they’ve peacefully kept up with her pace as they walk down the street. They’ve been out for almost an hour now and they’ve been walking aimlessly. She slows down once she notices the art around the walls. It’s the Avengers. They’ve all been spray painted in the walls; some of them with their names next to them, others have little messages. Quotes, questions, answers.

She stops once she finds _the Winter Soldier_ ; he seems battle ready, both of his hands up in front of his face and closed into fists. The background is all pale red, accentuating the black of his uniform and the dirty white that accentuated his face and his metal arm. Still, he looked beautiful. Angry and lost, but beautiful.

“Friend or foe?” She reads out loud and she almost reaches out to touch the words on the wall. To feel the texture of it, maybe one word is rougher that the other and that’d give her the answer.

“I still wonder the same thing everyday,” Bucky replies and gives an apologetic smile once she turns around to see him, startled. He bends over to pet both dogs and she swallows her heart back into place. He looks up at the wall and puts his hands in his pockets. He’s wearing a baseball cap and a hoodie, in his best try to blend in. “Can’t never be sure about the soldier.”

“Why do you always do that?”

“Do what?”

“Talk about yourself like you’re some sort of... _thing_.”

Bucky thinks about it for a while. And she waits. “I guess, because that’s what they’ve always said I was. Because that’s how they see me; as a weapon.”

The air is dense then. And she wishes she could reach out and touch him. Hug him, maybe even just put her hand on his shoulder to let him know she was on his side. That he wasn’t a thing or a weapon, he was just Bucky. But she’s seen the way he squirms away from people, how he doesn’t shake hands or touch anyone other than Steve. Her heart aches thinking how lonely he must feel.

“Okay, so we’re not sure about the soldier. What about _you_ , sergeant Barnes? Friend or foe?”

 _I’ll be whatever you want me to be_ , he thinks. And he wishes he could put the thought out there, let the voices in his head sound but he’s never been more terrified. Instead, he mumbles, “What do you think?”

“I think they got your jawline right,” she points out, her eyes forward, still studying the lines on the wall. “Not your eyes, though. They’re much kinder in real life.”

They whole world is quiet then, her breathing and quick heartbeat the only things Bucky can hear.

“It’s cold out here, Buck,” she looks down at the dogs, who have been sitting at her feet the entire time. She smiles at them and then looks back at Bucky, “Let’s go home. I’ll make us some tea.”

✭

Days later, Bucky still thinks about _let’s go home_.

✭

It’s Sunday and it’s her friends birthday, so of course, they decide to meet up for brunch.

The great thing about it is that she gets to see all of her girlfriends at the same time for the first time in months. The bad thing is, she hasn’t done brunch or any kind of drinking in months, so the champagne doesn’t take long to get to her head.

By five o’clock she’s stumbling into her apartment, and she has to blink rapidly to make the room stop spinning.

Bucky’s there and he doesn’t look happy. He’s frowning and she wants to do nothing but kiss the space in where his brows almost touch to get rid of it.

“Hi,” she greets, taking a step forward and this is the closet they’ve ever been. She has to tilt her head back a little to be able to catch his eyes and the smell of his shampoo makes her throat dry. Coffee grounds, who knew? And she’s suddenly craving a cup. “God, you’re gorgeous.”

Bucky looks over his shoulder to the agent who’s still had the headphones on but has his eyes on them. The guy clears his throat and looks away quickly, rearranging himself in his seat. Bucky tried his best to help her get into her room, closing the door behind them when she’s done kissing her dogs and sits at the edge of her bed.

“Do you know who I am?” Bucky asks tentatively.

“I know exactly who you are, Sergeant Barnes,” she smile up at him, all teeth and her eyes closed. “I also know who you pretend to be.”

She shoots up then and the world tilts and blurs. She takes a few steps not sure in what direction and holds herself up, planting her hands on the dresser. She looks in the mirror and she doesn’t recognize herself. She only recognizes the man behind her with the kind eyes and the worried face, and she spins around quickly, standing straight up. Bucky knows that she just _forgot_ that he was there, and he almost laughs.

“You look like you’ve seen a ghost,” he jokes.

“Ghost are fake,” she rolls her eyes. “Like the Moon, or women named Barbara.”

“I’m not—not sure which part of that I want to pick apart first.”

“How about you start tearing apart my clothes?” she suggests without missing a beat. She reaches behind her for the zipper and fails. With clear frustration, she pleads, “I need to get out of this damn dress.”

“I’ll help you unzip.”

“Or you can use that super strength of yours and just rip it off.”

Bucky helps her back into bed and tries his best not too think to much about what she just said. He puts his knee on the matters behind her and in a single swift movement, he’s unzipped her dress completely. He grabs the T-shirt laying on top the pile of clothes in her chair and as she slides the silky fabric down her legs, he hands her the shirt, his eyes firm on the ground. Once she’s somewhat covered, he kneels in front of her to try and help her out of her shoes. The belt at the side is very small and tight, and Bucky's body is _shaking_ , making him have a hard time figuring it out.

She giggles coyly, “If you kiss me, I might just do it for you.”

Bucky looks up at her for a second and then he leans over and kisses her full on the lips. She gasps at the contact and doesn’t have enough time to return the kiss before Bucky is heading towards the door.

She catches him as his hand closes around the knob, and forces herself in between his body and the wooden door. The cold of it sends a shiver down her spine, her head swimming as she reaches up to kiss on the mouth, soft and chaste and close mouthed. Bucky _growls_ in return, and she smiles victorious before he kisses her again and again and then one more time. His arms close around her waist and he spins them around so his back is against the wall and she fits in between his legs where she pushes forward in all the right places. His brain is hazy and he’s not sure anymore of who’s the drunk one, as he closes his hands at the back of her legs and picks her up like she’s weightless. Two steps forward and half a spin and he’s sitting on bed with her straddling him. She rolls her hips on top of him and Bucky swallows a moan. He’s so turned on he sees stars. But he can’t.

He can’t.

“I can’t,” he breathes. “Not like this, darling.”

The room is quiet. The only thing there is her accelerated breathing and the drumming of her heart. She nods, and she’s completely sober now. The world is not spinning anymore, but her head still feels like a giant water balloon. She nods again but she doesn’t move. She closes her eyes and rest her forehead against Bucky’s, playing the hair on the back of his head. She kisses his forehead as saying _it’s okay_ , and Bucky smiles at the gesture. She kisses his temple, his hairline, each one of his eyelids and the tip of his nose. She kisses his cheeks and can’t help but smile as he tilts his head back a little, his eyes closed, waiting. She brushes his nose against his before kissing him softly on the mouth.

She rolls over to sit on the bed next to him and Bucky misses her warmth immediately. She gets rid of her shoes quickly and asks him to stay as she crawls under her covers.

“Please? I’d buy you pizza when I wake up.”

Bucky just smiles, settling in next to her.

When she wakes up, she does get the pizza. They give a few slices to the agent hanging out in the living room and they sit to watch a movie together. They don’t talk about it. But by the way they sit close to each other, her legs on top of his lap and Bucky’s thumb tracing invisible patterns on her leg, maybe they don’t have to.

✭

“Captain,” she greets, opening the door wider for him.

“Just Steve,” he smiles. “I just wanted to stop by personally and say thank you for all your help. And also apologize if maybe we overstayed our welcome.”

“Not at all. It was kinda fun.”

“I’m glad you think so,” he smiles again. “If there’s anything we can ever do for you to repay the favor, please, don’t hesitate to ask.”

“Thank you.”

“Again, thank _you_. Bucky is finishing up some paper work back at the compound. He’s meeting with Shuri and Stark for his routine arm check, but he’ll head this way after that.”

“He’s still coming?”

Steve doesn’t miss the way she tries to hold back a smile and how her whole body seems to just jolt awake. That simply gesture makes his worries disappear and his heart more at ease.

“Of course,” he nods once. “He’s been anxious to see you all day.”

She clears her throat and this time, she can’t hide the smile. He can see how hard she’s trying to not full on freak out.

“Steve,” she coos. “Does he really like me?”

“Sweetheart,” he chuckles. “He’s head over heels for you. But we’re from another time, darling, we move a little slower when it comes to things like these. He’s _courting_ you.”

“Oh, God.”

“He just—I just think he’s a little scared. It’s been rough these past few years, and you’re probably the only good thing that’s happened to him in a very long time.”

“Steve,” she scolds him. “He got you back, too, you know? He loves you just as much as you love him. You’re most of his happy memories.”

“I know,” he sighs. “I’m sorry if I’m overstepping right now, too. I know it's none of my business.”

“I understand, and you’re not overstepping. He’s your family, you’re looking out for him. I respect that.”

Steve accepts her hug and he knows this is the begging of something new. Of something great, even.

✭

She doesn’t find Bucky when she opens the door later that day.

“Hey there, little darling,” the man smiles, his accent thick.

It only takes her a second to register him as one of the buff dudes who help her jump start her car weeks ago. She smiles tightly at him after she asks her dogs to be quiet.

“Can I help you?”

“Actually, you can,” he replies, pushing the door open with his hand and stepping inside. “Mind if I come in?”

He chuckles at his own small joke and she swallows hard as she closes the door behind her. She just knows it’s bad, but she also knows Bucky is supposed to stop by any minute now, so she sighs quietly and forces herself to get her shit together. He walks around the apartment, looking everywhere, moving everything. She puts the dogs in the room, hoping they’ll be safe there, and makes herself busy in the kitchen, putting the kettle on, asking him if he’d like some tea.

“Actually, I’d like to know about your boyfriend.”

She recovers fairly quickly but she doesn’t move. She can’t. She’s frozen and her legs are shaking so hard that she’d probably end up on the floor if she tried.

“I’m sorry?”

“The Russian soldier,” he spits. “He comes by to see you very often. Is he not your boyfriend?”

“What about him?”

“Just wondering if he has other business around here besides _you_.”

“Not that I know of,” she stutters.

He walks towards her really slow playing with the rings on his chubby fingers and she knows it’s all going to shit. Her eyes stare at the apartment door, silently praying for a miracle. She hears a soft chuckle before the man slaps her hard on the face. Her knees hit the floor and her body falls backwards. The chubby hands closes at the front of her shirt to raise her upper body up, and the next slap sends the room spinning.

He picks her up like a bag of potatoes and lets her fall on one of her dining room chairs. She’s sure she’s screaming, but she can’t hear it. When she tries to move, it’s already too late, her wrist are bound to the armrests by cable-ties. Another hit and the blood runs down her nose.

“You’re gonna like this,” he smiles at her, holding her head up with his fingers. He puts a dirty piece of cloth in her mouth and reaches around his back pocket. He puts the metal square in front of her face for her to see, she thinks it looks a lot like a cigar cutter. “It was a gift. It helps a lot with little things like these.”

He puts her index finger inside the circle in the middle and then he hooks his own inside the bigger ones on either side. One last grin and he puts pressure on his hand, the metal closing around her finger and pulls down hard, her knuckle snapping immediately. She screams into the cloth in her mouth and he watches her intently. Her finger is numb but the pain around it remains. He makes sure she’s not screaming anymore and gives her a change to talk.

“What do you know?”

“I don’t know anything,” she struggles to get out, in between sobs. “I swear.”

“Are you one of them, huh? An _Avenger_ ,” he asks, poison in his voice.

“I’m not, I’m not, I’m not,” she repeats nonstop even after the cloth is back inside her mouth.

Another knuckle cracks and she twist in her seat as she screams, the tears blinding her for a second.

“We still got eight more fingers, darling,” he points out. “Do you have anything to tell me?”

She shakes her head and her jaw locks, waiting for the pain. She tries her best to hold her screams back this time. She’s angry now and doesn’t want to give him the satisfaction to see her suffer.

“Seven,” he corrects. “Got anything to say now?”

She shakes her head again and her whole body tenses, waiting. But nothing happens this time. She opens her eyes but the man is gone. When she finds him, he’s up against the wall, struggling to breathe as Bucky’s left hand closes around his throat, the metal shinning with the afternoon light. She doesn’t hear the snap but she knows when it happens. Bucky opens his hand and the man falls to floor, lifeless.

She sees him rushing towards her before it all goes black.

✭

She’s been awake for almost an hour now.

She’s in a hospital bed but it looks way too fancy to be an actual hospital. She’s sure it’s not when a Korean woman comes in to check on her and she realizes her hand is pretty much good as new. The pain is there but it’s more like a sore than the fire she had felt earlier and her fingers weren’t deformed or swollen up.

She’s amazed by all of it, but her heart hits the floor when Bucky walks in, guilt written all over his face.

“I’m sorry,” he starts, kneeling next to her. “You got hurt and it was my fault."

She shakes her head quickly, holding his hands with hers. “It was mine. I probably wouldn’t have even been on their radar if I hadn’t fake the whole thing with my car.”

“No, no—“

“Bucky, it doesn’t matter,” she promises. “I’m okay thanks to you. It’s okay.”

He nods once and takes his time kissing every single one of her knuckles softly. “You should rest some more. I’ll stay right here until you fall asleep.”

“Okay,” she replies, her voice small. She gets comfortable and invites him to sit next to her. He does, and he quietly plays with her hair until darkness rises again.

✭

“Steve Rogers,” she coos playfully, looking up from her book. “Sneaking in into a woman’s bedroom? What would the world think?”

He chuckles, “I’m glad I didn’t catch you at a bad time.”

“Well, that would be scandalous. You must be trying to get us in trouble.”

“Nothing of that sort, darling, you can rest easy.”

“What a way to break my heart, Captain. But now that I think about it, I do recall accidentally showing you my lower leg once.”

“Yes, that _definitely_ was scandalous,” he smirks. As the smile fades, concern rises on his expressions. “How are you doing?”

“I’m fine,” she assures him. “I’m waiting on paperwork to be discharged so I can give my statement, I guess? And then I’m free to go home.”

“Steve,” she warns. “Where’s Bucky?”

“He um—he’s taking care of something at the moment.”

“I bet he is,” she whispers looking at her hands. She clears her throat and tries to shake the thoughts in her head. “Where are my babies?”

“Safe and sound,” he swears. “Anxious to see you.”

“Thank you.”

“Again, thank _you_ ,” he swallows. “I just wanted you to know that Bucky will be back in a few hours.”

“Tell him he can catch me at home if he gets here first, alright?”

Steve sighs in relief and nods before he steps out of the room. She shakes the thoughts away one more time and tries her best to get back to her book as she waits for the doctor.

✭

“Holy shit!”

“It’s nothing,” Bucky mumbles, closing the door behind him. “It’s just a scratch.”

“That is NOT a scratch,” she growls, opening and closing her kitchen cabinets trying to find her emergency kit. She gives up with a huff and rushes to the bathroom to try finding it there. She runs towards him with the box in her hands, “Why didn’t you get this cleaned up as soon as you got back?”

“It’s not a big deal,” he muses. “They heal themselves, anyway, and Steve told me you were here so I didn’t stop by the compound.”

She shakes her head, but her eyes and movements are focused on washing her hands before wetting a piece of cloth. She comes back to him quickly and begins working on the gush in his arm, “You need to clean your wounds, Buck. You just have to. I don’t care what kind of freaky healing powers you have, it’s better to avoid any infections.”

He shrugs, “Nobody ever really cared or cleaned my wounds for me before.”

“Well,” she starts. “Before you didn’t have me.”

Bucky’s stuck there—on her words, on the warmth of his chest and the concern on her face. He dares to think he's never been happier than where he is right now.

✭

"Hi, Pauline,"

"Hey, Buck," she smiles brightly. "Izzy has been asking for you."

"My sweet darling," he smiles at the clipboard as he signs his name. "I am on my way."

"I believe Fred's got your girl at the agility course with him."

"Thank you," he says from the door. One last smile in her direction and he's out in the dog area. He finds her easily after giving Izzy a good amount of smooches and a proper walk. She apologizes to Fred as she steps outside and lets the dog roam around freely the play area. The German Shepard huffs at Bucky, who apologizes with a chuckle.

"He'll be fine," she promises, stepping into his space, "Hi."

"Hey," he smiles back against her lips. "I brought you the shirt you asked for."

"Thank you, I'll change on the way back home. It's playtime, anyway."

Bucky nods, "I'll get the pups. See you out there."

Watching the dogs play and holding her hand, Bucky has never felt more at peace.

**Author's Note:**

> this took me like three hours to write and i don't know what the hell is happening either. just had a thought and i ran with it? definitely unedited. i might need a beta if anyone interested?  
> also, the whole Avengers graffiti/artwork on the walls idea came from [this](https://oldbrooklynsoul.tumblr.com/post/185560117214/first-off-my-names-bucky-the-winter) post. the third picture is sort of what i imagined, but you know, painted on the wall.  
> thank you for reading! xx
> 
> find me - [xbuchananbarnes.tumblr.com](http://xbuchananbarnes.tumblr.com)


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